Date Night
by Pseudo-anonymity
Summary: Wash has a treat for Zoë. Shameless fluff.


**Date Night**

_A/N: Fluff! Please let me know what you thought. Reviews are a writer's best friend! Also, if you think of a better title, tell me. It's more like a working title right now…_

Zoë slipped down into their shared bunk. Lit candles stood on multiple surfaces, lending their golden glow to the face of the man she loved.

"Wash?" She asked softly, searching for his intent with gentle eyes. He wore a flightsuit, clean and properly fastened around his neck.

"I was wondering if we could have a date." He paused a moment, trying to gauge her reaction, presumably, "If you don't want to…that's f-fine—uh-fine. I just thought…" Zoë crossed the short distance to her husband, and she shushed him with a kiss.

"I think it's a wonderful idea."

"Oh." A sheepish grin grew on Wash's face.

"What should I wear?" She paused for a moment. "How about a dress?"

Wash's eyes widened and he tugged at his collar. "A dress would be _wonderful_."

Zoë stepped around the curtain that comprised their closet door. She stripped deftly, and replaced her usual cotton underwear for a silk lacy black pair and its matching bra. She smiled as she recalled Wash's face the first time he had seen the lingerie. The dress was wine-red, with a deep V-neck, revealing collarbones and cleavage. The dress ended halfway down her thighs. Zoë's skin prickled with the softness of the material. She debated with herself on shoes and hairstyle while she brushed her curls. In the end, she emerged barefoot with her hair tumbling down her shoulders unrestrained.

Wash lay reclined on the bed, his hair spun gold in the candlelight. He smiled his appreciation as she approached. He held his arms wide and she snuggled into his lap, head on his shoulder. He produced a small wooden box and slowly lifted its lid. Zoë gasped at the amount and variety of fruit and sweets it contained.

"Lao tien ye, Wash. How did…"

"Shh. No questions. Just enjoy it. Dong ma?"

Zoë nodded, not wanting this treat to be rescinded due to her questioning. His fingers chose a strawberry and guided it to her mouth. She sighed in pleasure as the fresh, sweet flavor burst across her tongue. She could feel Wash's gaze as he absorbed her pleasured expression. His fingers brought a raspberry next, firm and tart. The next proffering was a tiny square of chocolate, dark and bitter as the black. His fingers ghosted down her arm, raising gooseflesh on her bare skin.

She turned her face and pressed a kiss to the corner of his neck and jaw. He shivered and placed a section of mandarin orange against her lips. His left hand started teasing the hem on her thigh even as his right gave her a fragment of fudge.

Zoë marveled at the different aspects of her man as she chewed. He was usually insistent in bed, demanding fingers tugging clothes off her body, greedy lips on her lips, throat, collarbones. This delicate, more romantic side was not unknown, but generally emerged only on special occasions. Had she forgotten an anniversary? He kept track of the strangest firsts—the first time she had laughed at one of his jokes, the first time she had shot a man actively pursuing him, their first intimate touch, the first time he had whispered "I love you", on the bridge, staring out at the stars, their hands clasped together as if in prayer.

She smiled as he lifted a dried apricot to her mouth.

"I love you, bao bei," he whispered, his voice husky and rich with emotion.

"As I love you, Wash."

A juicy pear slice gave her the opportunity to suckle his fingers, cleaning the sweet stickiness off with her lips and tongue. Crisp apple, blackberry, another strawberry or three, small bits of toffee. His left hand had tugged the hem of her dress several inches upward and made the occasional pass at her breasts. She shook her head at his next offering, another square of dark chocolate.

"Anymore and I might burst," Zoë murmured.

"That's the idea," Wash said, "burst with pleasure, happiness, sexual stimulation." His voice dripped gold and honey. Zoë wasn't sure if she should smack him or melt. He placed the box off to the side and sat up, still cradling her in his arms. Zoë shifted in his lap so she was on her knees between his thighs, facing him. Her hands moved to pull him closer, one tangled in his hair, the other on the small of his back. He moved willingly with her, their lips meeting gently. His hands cradled her hips.

She sighed when he broke the kiss.

"Keep that up, Zoë, and I'll lose my self-control and tear your clothes off and ravage you."

Zoë sighed again, grinning, hoping he _would_ follow through on that threat.

"Temptress," Wash's mouth tickled her ear as he pulled her dress up and over her body, and made good on his promise.


End file.
